


Unravelling

by greeneyedgirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-09-20
Packaged: 2017-12-26 21:10:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/970338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greeneyedgirl/pseuds/greeneyedgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester has posed as a detective, a fireman, an electrician, and even a priest, but never has he ever had to pose as a certified child-minder. Until now...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title: "Unravelling."  
> Rated: T  
> Characters: Dean/OC Sam  
> Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, the characters or the storylines. If I did, I'd be a lot nicer to the boys the poor babies. Plus, they'd be taking turns in getting into my bed;)
> 
> So this is a new idea for a Fanfiction that came to me recently and it's just been screaming to be written so I'm finally giving in. Plus, I can't help but think of how cute Dean would be with a baby now that Jensen has baby JJ. Aw, cutie!
> 
> Enjoy!

Chapter One

"Hey, Dean. Look at this."

As usual, Sam Winchester had his head buried in his laptop, sitting at the dingy motel table and scouring the net for anything remotely supernatural that they could sink their teeth into. For the last few weeks, there hadn't been any leads on a case, which, to their surprise, greatly bothered them. Dean was getting restless, tired of being confined to the motel room they'd checked into using a Me Harrington's credit card. Sam, on the other hand, like the nerd his brother time and time again claimed he was, was enjoying surfing for legends and brushing up on his monster fact files.

Times like this reminded Dean of the old days, when he actually had to take care of Sam; feeding him and making sure he was showered and dressed properly. And he didn't like it one bit. They'd spend most of their days in dingy motel rooms: an order from their father. Sam wasn't old enough to join in on a hunt yet, and it was Dean's assignment to take care of the younger boy. He didn't mind missing out on hunts and quality time with his dad, he just resented the fact that Sam had been placed in his care.

'Watch out for Sammy.' Was the first thing the revenge-driven man drilled firmly into Dean's head. 'Make sure he stays out of trouble.' Dean knew he should look after his little brother regardless of orders, but who was going to make sure Dean stayed out of trouble? The older boy had tried on many occasions to make their situation just a little more bearable for Sam, but more often than not, he failed. It still didn't stop Sam from looking up to him like he was the most important person in the world, though.

Cleaning a gun he just ached to use, Dean's head snapped up, eyes wide and alert like a child on Christmas morning. "Atta boy, Sammy!" He praised, grinning widely from ear to ear. "What'cha got?"

Reluctantly, Sam tore his eyes away from his laptop screen to meet the excited expression his brother wore. He scoffed silently, forever wondering how he could be the younger of the two; at times, Dean could be a real child. Shaking off his thoughts, he turned back to the matter at hand. "5 kids, all within a 5 mile radius, vanished from their homes without a trace."

Dean, suddenly more interested than he was a few seconds before, leant forward on his knees and motioned for his little brother to carry on. "Parents didn't see or hear anything. No sign of B+E according to police county records." Sam added for good measure.

Dean finished cleaning his favourite gun and laid it to rest atop the array of shotguns that he'd taken from the Impala's trunk a few hours prior. Boredom had long since taken its hold and it gave him something productive to do. He scratched the back of his head wonderingly. "Any other links?" He asked, running a hand down his face tiredly.

Sam nodded, eyes flitting back and forth between the screen and his brother. "All of the kids are under the age of ten, all born out of wedlock, all to widowed mothers." He recited.

Dean sat back on the bed and scoffed. "What, so just because the mother can't keep her legs shut the kids gotta suffer for it?"

"You've never had a problem when it's been you between them though, have you?" Sam cocked his head, raising an inquisitive brow. Dean, suddenly bright red and flustered, tried to play it off:

"Shut it, Sam." He mentally kicked himself for not saying something wittier, but his brain had drawn up a blank. He watched as his kid brother smirked, having won that round. "Alright, alright." He muttered, standing up and taking a seat on the opposite side of the table. "What else you got?"

Still smiling, Sam turned back to his computer. "The last abduction was... literally just down the block. A widowed Mrs Lancaster's daughter was reported missing four days ago." Sam scrolled further down the police records. "Her husband died a few months just before, but the little girl wasn't his. Says here that Mrs Lancaster had a blood test right after she was born."

Dean stood abruptly, almost knocking his chair over. "Then what are we waiting for?" He demanded, watching as his brother looked up at him with a dazed expression. "Let's get suited up and go talk to the lady."

"Dean I-Uh-" Sam tried to protest, but Dean wasn't having any of it, just dug around in his duffel for his suit, muttering something about needing to iron it. "Dean!" Sam shouted, finally getting his attention. "We can't go barging in, she's got kids."

Dean, not quite understanding what Sam was getting out, shrugged and raised an eyebrow. "So, Sammy?"

"So," Sam sighed. "It's ten thirty. The rest of her kids will be in bed. We can't just intrude like that. We'll go first thing in the morning instead."

Dean, not quite believing that it was that late, raised his watch arm for inspection. "Crap." He muttered his excitement at leaving the motel room dashed. He cracked his knuckles, rather annoyed and cranky all of a sudden. "I'm going to find the nearest bar and drink it dry." Dean huffed out, slipping into his jacket for nothing better to do. "You're welcome to join me, y'know." He directed at Sam. "It's a little something I like to call 'fun' stop me if you've heard it before."

Sam chuckled, tapping away at the keyboard. "No thanks, Dean." He declined. "One of us has to be sober tomorrow."

Dean shrugged and tossed his keys onto the bed. He'd have to walk back tonight if things went as planned. Hopefully he'd meet a hot chick just looking for the 'fun' he had in mind.

"Suit yourself," He grumbled. "Don't wait up, Grandpa."


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: "Unravelling."  
> Rated: T  
> Characters: Dean/OC Sam  
> Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, the characters or the storylines. If I did, I'd be a lot nicer to the boys the poor babies. Plus, they'd be taking turns in getting into my bed;)
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you to those who reviewed! You're all such gems and I love you!  
> Here's the second chapter up. Enjooy!

Chapter Two

The next morning, after Dean had filled himself up on a greasy breakfast to ease his hangover, the two sauntered out of the diner to where the Impala was parked. "You shouldn't have had so much to drink." Sam scolded his brother, climbing into the drivers side when Dean threw him the keys accompanied by a mumble of: 'you drive, my head is screaming.'

Ignoring his brother, the elder Winchester just slipped on his dark sunglasses, hiding away from the harsh sunlight. "Just enjoy driving my baby whilst you can, Sam. Because it's not gonna happen again anytime soon. Now come on, daylights burning."

"Do you have to be such a jerk?" Sam inquired, pulling out of the parking lot, looking left and right before easing out onto the road.

Dean snuggled into the passenger seat and gave his brother a withering smile. "Do you have to be such a little bitch? He shot back, earning a defeated eye roll. "I thought so."

They drove in silence for a while, Dean reluctant to turn on the tunes out of fear that Bon Jovi would blow his eardrums out. Sam hung one arm lazily out of the car window, tapping away on the steering wheel with the other hand to a non existent beat. Dean tolerated it for a few minutes, hoping that they younger man would stop, but Sam was relentless.

"Sam, for chrissake, will you stop that?" Dean suddenly snapped, instantly regretting the echo that bounced back and reverberated against the walls of his brain.

Sam, momentarily startled by his brothers outburst, tapped once more experimentally. "What, you mean this? Is it annoying you?"

"You know it's annoying me." Dean scoffed, finally sliding the sunglasses off. He blinked once, twice, trying to adjust to the brightness of the morning. If he was going to pose as the police superior he wasn't, he at least had to do it convincingly, and he noticed they were nearing the Lancaster house. 

Sam just chuckled, tapping a couple more times to see if he could get a rise out of Dean. 

"Tap once more and I'll break your fingers." The elder Winchester threatened. 

"Oh, don't be such a baby." Sam shot back, easing the car to a stop on the sidewalk outside the house where the widow lived. "Are you feeling better yet?" He queried as Dean exited the Impala behind him. 

"Yes, thank you, driving Miss Daisy." Dean quipped over the head of the car. "Seriously, man, a 10 minute drive should not have taken us," He inspected his watch. "20 minutes."

Sam rolled his eyes along, gesturing to his attire before pointing at the house at tossing Dean his keys back. "Let's just get this over with." He muttered, clutching his head.

"Dude." Sam whispered as they walked up the path. "If you're gonna keep holding your head like that, she's gonna know something's up. You're supposed to be on duty, you can't be sporting a hangover." Knowing his brother was right, Dean let go of his head and instead reached into the waistband of his trousers to check if his gun was still hoisted there. He sighed when his fingers brushed the cool handle. "Just knock, man." He instructed, getting ready to flip his I.D.

It took a few minutes for someone to answer the door, and when they did, it was a small boy of around four years old. He wore a Spiderman outfit, his dirty blonde hair ruffled and dirt smeared across his cheeks in an army pattern. "Hey little guy." Dean smiled. "Diggin' the costume. You a fan?"

Sam nudged his brother, starting over. "Is your mommy home? Or any other adult supervising you?" He asked, slightly inclined to go against the latter given his current state. The little boy stared up at them for a few minutes, and Dean whistled uncomfortably. 

"Mommy!" The young boy finally squealed loudly, running further into the house. "There are scary men at the door, mommy! They want to steal my Spiderman costoom!"

Suddenly, looking flustered and a little worn down, a young woman appeared at the door. Her blonde hair was tied back into a messy bun, a few strands hanging loose and sticking to her face. She held a baby, no more than 9 months, jiggling it as she tried to soothe its crying. "I'm sorry about my son," She greeted, out of breath and run ragged. "Listen, if you're selling something, I don't want it. I'm having a really hard day and I just don't have the ti-"

"No, Ma'am." Dean smiled encouragingly. "I'm detective Harrison and this is my partner Detective Miles. We're here to ask you some questions about the disappearance of your daughter?" He held up his fake badge and Sam did the same. She squinted at the I.D. for a few seconds before stepping aside and motioning for them to come in. "Somebody already came round to ask me a few questions. Is this going to take long?"

Dutifully, Sam and Dean took the invitation, immediately feeling as if they'd just stepped into a warzone. Toys littered the floor, laundry sat unwashed in baskets by the stairs and there was a faint odour in the air. It didn't help the somersaulting in Dean's stomach. He suddenly found himself wishing he hadn't eaten all that bacon for breakfast. "No, Mrs Lancaster. This'll only take a few minutes.

"You've caught me at a really bad time. Everything looks a mess." Mrs Lancaster carried on as she lead them into the lounge. It was no better in there. The whole place looked as if a bomb had hit it.

Sam shook his head. "We're not here to judge your cleaning skills, Mrs Lancaster." He assured. "We can't even begin to understand what you're going through. Losing your husband and your daught-" He was cut off by a loud scream. Mrs Lancaster looked as if she were about ready to peel her own skin off. Dean winced at the noise, wanting nothing more that to massage his headache away. 

"Could you just hold her for a second please?" She directed at Dean, ushering the baby into his arms. "I just have to sort this out- Jacob, you let your brother go now!"

Dean stood wordlessly in the middle of the room, holding the baby arms length away from his body as it's mother strode away. It cried at the feeling of being suspended in mid air and squawked loudly at being held by a stranger. 

"It's not a football you're about to throw to the quarterback, Dean!" Sam scolded. "It's a baby!" 

"I'm not good with kids, Sam." Dean whisper/shouted back. "Look at how you turned out."

"You were six, and that was a long time ago Dean." Sam tried. He knew his brother was exaggerating. Hell, Dean had raised him and he didn't turn out that bad. "She'll stop crying if you hold her properly."

Reluctantly doing as his brother instructed him to, Dean bought the baby to rest against his chest. Instantly, the crying died down. "Try rocking her." Sam suggested.

"Sure, Nanny Mcphee. When'd you become such a baby expert?" But sure enough, as soon as Dean began rocking her against his chest, the cries stopped altogether and a sudden peace fell over the house. Even the two boys appeared to have stopped screaming bloody murder at each other. Mrs Lancaster re-entered the room looking gobsmacked. Dean tried to hand the baby back over to its mother, but she stepped back. Dean was about to explode, demanding that she take her baby, but the look that washed over her face made it almost impossible. She just looked so tired. 

"I'm sorry." She explained. "But she's such a colicky baby and it's been hard for me to keep her quiet. When she starts, my boys start. You have no idea how long I've waited for some peace and quiet."

"Oh yeah," Dean smiled. "Cute kid you got in the Spiderman gear."

Mrs Lancaster sighed. "Well I'm glad you think so. He refuses to take it off."

"Oh, I know what you mean." Dean chuckled, feeling the baby squirm at the movement of his chest. He had to admit, he kinda liked holding the tiny thing. It was warm and innocent, everything that the life of a hunter stole from him. Subconsciously, he began to rock her. "My little brother was literally glued to the tin foil spaceman suit he crafted himself when he was five. Damn near cried when it finally tore. Broke his little heart."

Subtly, Sam stood on his foot and coughed to clear his throat, reminding his brother of why they were there. "Uh, yes. Mrs Lancaster Is there somewhere I could maybe put this little tyke down?"

"Please call me Liz," The blonde woman tried a smile, grateful that the baby had begun to doze off. "Go ahead and put her in her bouncer." Dean gently lay the little girl down where her mother had pointed to, watching as her tiny mouth pulled up in disdain at the corner. For a second, she looked as if she were about to burst out crying again, but she closed her eyes tighter and sank further into the bouncer. Dean wouldn't admit it, but he kind of liked holding the baby girl. Mrs Lancaster breathed a heavy sigh of relief. "Daisy doesn't take well to strangers. She must like you."  
Dean couldn't help but smile. He was about to respond with a witty remark along the lines of 'it doesn't take a woman long to fall in love with me,' but Sam piped up, cutting him off. "Mrs Lancaster," He began.

"Please, call me Liz." She insisted again.

"Liz," Sam inclined, smiling the briefest of smiles. "The record we have here says that you're daughter was seven years old, the second oldest of your kids after Jacob."

Liz nodded, eyes slightly distancing at the mention of her daughter. "Yes. Lea was three years younger than her brother."

Dean curiously scanned the room as Sam continued his questioning, eyes glazing over the family pictures. "Is this your husband?" He asked, motioning to the man standing proudly at the front of a family portrait.

Liz's head snapped up, following Dean's pointed finer. "Yes." She swallowed thickly. "That was Michael."

Dean bowed his head. "I'm sorry for you loss." Most of the things he said furing a questioning weren't true, but he forced himself to be genuine. He knew what it felt like to lose someone you loved, but this woman seemed to be grieving and handling a house full of kids at the same time, and Dean found it amazing that she was holding up this well. Liz smiled at the sincerity of his words, eyes falling to her little girl snoozing in her bouncer. "He died when Daisy was 7 months old. It was hardest on Jacob and Lea, losing their father like that. Sammy didn't know what was happening. He still doesn't really understand."

Assuming that Sammy was the Spiderman fanatic and smiling subtly at his brother at the likeness of his name, Dean said sympathetically: "If it means anything to you, I think you're doing an amazing job considering the circumstances."

"Thank you." Liz smiled. "Lea was my little angel. Always helping out. My sweet girl."

"I'm sorry to ask this Mrs Lanca- Liz." Sam corrected. "But was Lea acting strange in the days before her disappearance?"

Liz nodded softly. "She said there was uh- that someone was in her room a few nights before she-" Her voice cracked as though she didn't quite believe it. "She told me that they were friends and that one day, they were going to take her someplace magical, like Disneyland."

Sam's interest piqued. Dean stepped forward. "Disneyland, huh? Liz, did she ever say what this person looked like?"

Liz shook her head. "Not really, no. She just said they wore a pretty red dress with white fur and that she wanted one just like it. Oh, and a strange locket. They wore a strange locket. Something about Holly, y'know, like a Christmas wreath."

Dean nodded, smiling softly down at Daisy rocking peacefully in her bouncer. "Do you mind if we take a look in Lea's room?"

"No. Go ahead."

 

 

Upstairs, Lea's bedroom was a typical little girls abode. It was all a light shade of pink with patterns of fairies and other magical creatures painted on the walls. Her small bed was a tiny four poser, completely with a sheer canopy. "She's quite the little princess." Dean smiled as he stepped in behind Sam, wielding his homemade EMF detector. "Who's got quite the little setup." He added, spotting the large pink TV adhered to the wall. "It's pink, but I'd sure love to watch a game on that baby."

"Do you smell that?" Sam queried suddenly, stopping his brothers rant. Dean cocked his head and breathed in deeply. 

"Sulphur." He decided gruffly, pocketing the detector. "Demon." The small amount of powder gathered by the side of the bay window only supported their decision. 

"Were we expecting anything different?"

Dean shrugged. "Well, we can hope can't we?"

Sam threw a sideways glance at Dean, spotting a fairy desk behind him. He rifled through drawings resting on the top and through the rest of the drawers, hoping to find something he could use as evidence. The fact that the other detectives hadn't questioned Mrs Lancaster on the behaviour of her daughter leading up to her disappearance gave Sam a bad feeling that started in his fingertips and ended in his gut. "Bingo." He whispered as he held up a drawing of whom Mrs Lancaster described. He flipped it over curiously, surprised at what he found on the other side. 

Dean peeked over his shoulder. "I'm guessing that little Lea's one for drawing ghouls a lot?"

"You got it." Sam breathed out, folding it up and pocketing it.

"It looks like you, Sam." Dean joked as they exited the house.

Sometimes, he really did act like a child.

**Author's Note:**

> Just to make it clear, the story I am writing is related to no lore/legends that I know of. This idea just came to me and I had to write it, so sorry if some of the things I do write come across as a little wacky to you!
> 
> Drop me a review if you enjoyed it enough:) Oh, and Ruby 1.0 or 2.0, what do you think? 
> 
> Over+Out


End file.
